Sick Little Games
by EL1Z4B3TH
Summary: One little favor can go a long way...
1. Prologue

**AN: Hi, this is my first fanfiction on here, so it's a little rough around the edges and...yeah. Well, anyway this is the prologue and stuff. I'm awkward at these author notes so just pretend it's not awkward and read it because I said so. I'll shut up now.**

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I spotted him with his head poked into his locker. As if he really ever used any of its contents. For a minute I contemplated what I was about to do. It was stupid, childish and above all, so unlike me. Something inside me told me I shouldn't do it, it would only make things worse. Yet, I couldn't resist.

I had to.

It was now or never.

I shook these thoughts away as I took a deep breath and walked as calmly as I could in his direction. I shoved my hands into my jacket pocket, hoping for them to stop shaking, which seemed impossible at the moment. I saw his eyes flicker towards me the moment I approached him. Fuck, now I had to do it. Or rather ask.

"Erm, hi," I said sounding awkward as I tried to think of a subtle way to say what it was that I wanted to say.

He gave me a surprised look, not that I could really blame him. The only time I ever said anything to him was when I was going to insult him. To say we weren't friends was quite an understatement.

"Is there a reason why you're talking to me?" he challenged, closing his locker and casually leaning against it. I hated how he always seemed so casual about everything, as if the world was at his feet.

"I need a favor." So much for being subtle, I mentally slapped myself across the face.

"Sorry, love. I don't do favors, unless they're sexual favors," he said, looking over at me, a small smirk forming on his lips. This was typical. What did I expect? For him to say, _Oh, yes. Anything for for you!_ ? Maybe. I shouldn't have expected anything from him, not from John Lennon, at least. At that moment I realized I'd been glaring at him instead of actually responding like a normal person.

"Juliette, what the hell do you want? I have a class to skip," his voice sounded exasperated. I needed to stop thinking so much and just say it. I'd already made myself look stupid so what was the point in not continuing now?

"Pretend to be my boyfriend," were the first five words to escape my lips before I had the chance to think.

Bloody hell. What did I just say?

It was too late now. John had heard it and was looking at me with his lips pursed in a straight line and a crease forming on his forehead. I couldn't look him in the eyes, instead I studied the floor intently as if doing this would transport me back five minutes before I even had the nerve to go through with this.

"Let's pretend I never started talking to you, alright?" I didn't wait for a response and turned on my heel, intending to leave the scene as soon as possible.

"No, wait," he said behind me, causing me to stop dead in my tracks. I expected a sarcastic insult to follow, which is why the next three words he said shocked me entirely.

"I'll do it."

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**AN: So there is the prologue. It'll get better after this. And everything will be explained, don't worry. I know it's sound kinda weird now. So, yeah...what else should I say? Review? Yes, review. I'll love you forever. Maybe not forever, but you get the point. Bye. :) I don't know why I added the smiley face. It looks funny.**


	2. The Plan

**First of all, I'd like to thank everyone who reviewed last time and added the story to their alerts. It means a lot to me. Secondly, I realized that I didn't say this in the last chapter, but sadly, I don't own The Beatles. If I did then I would have made them had lots of naked photoshoots. Okay, that sounds kinda creepy, but you'd all like that, am I right? Anyway, this starts off the day before...hopefully that's not too confusing. Sorry if it is. Okay...READ. READ. READ. **

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One Day Before:

"JULIETTE HARTLEY, YOU GET DOWN HERE RIGHT THIS MINUTE. YOU'RE GOING TO BE LATE FOR SCHOOL!" My father's yell from downstairs drifted up into my room, awakening me. God, I hated mornings. Correction, I hated mornings that involved school.

"I'm up, I'm up!" I said to my dad even though he probably couldn't hear me. With a loud sigh I swung my feet over my bed and rubbed my eyes trying to at least physically wake myself up. Slowly, I got up and retrieved my school uniform from various parts around my room. Nothing in here was ever organized. After pulling on my pleated navy shirt, white button-down and matching tie I rushed downstairs into the bathroom.

I flipped on the light switch and studied my reflection in the mirror. My chestnut hair cascaded down my back in soft waves stopping a little below my shoulders. I grimaced, I wish I'd been fortunate enough to be born with pin straight hair. I always thought that straight hair looked more attractive than wavy hair. The only thing I actually liked were my eyes, "As blue as the sea, just like your mother's" my dad would always tell me when I was younger. Unfortunately, my mother had died when I was four and really the only memories I had of her were a couple faded photographs and some of her belongings which I kept safely in a box underneath my bed. Pushing these thoughts away I smiled to myself and continued getting ready for school.

Fifteen minutes later I emerged from the bathroom and walked over to the kitchen where my dad was already sitting down having his coffee and reading the morning paper.

"Mornin', dad," I said, pouring myself a cup of coffee and sitting down across from him.

"Took you long enough to get ready," he muttered, not looking up from the paper.

"Well, that could be because I'm really sleepy and I was very rudely awakened ."

"Hmph," was all my dad said in reply. I rolled my eyes and took a sip of coffee, letting the hot liquid burn the taste buds on my tongue.

"Did I tell you that Francine is coming over for dinner tonight?"

"WHAT? No, you did not fucking tell me this!" I exclaimed. In the midst of all this I accidentally ended up spilling the coffee all over myself and the floor.

"You better watch that mouth, young lady," he warned as I scrambled out of my chair and rushed to get paper napkins to clean up the mess I'd just created. If I wasn't so upset the coffee splattered across my shirt would have really burned right now.

Francine was my dad's girlfriend. I didn't like her...at all. Come to think of it, I'm pretty sure she didn't like me either. She was a very snooty woman and only cared about her image. Her daughter, Penelope, whom I went to school with, was exactly the same way. They both irritated me, which is why I absolutely hated when they came over for dinner.

"I think I'll pass on this whole dinner thing," I said as I cleaned the coffee off the floor and attempted to clean the large stain on my shirt.

"Oh, come on...Penelope's coming too. You like her, right?"

"Not really, no," I said as I grabbed my book bag and walked towards the door, "I have to go to school now. Bye, dad."

"Honey, you have a stain on your shirt," I heard him call after me as I walked out. I was very aware of this, but the stain was the least of my problems right now. All I could think about was how horrible dinner was going to be.

Upon my arrival at Liverpool High, I quickly rushed into the bathroom only to be greeted by Penelope and her best friend, Holly. Great. Could this morning get any worse?

I hated Holly more than I hated Penelope. Actually, I probably hated her more than anyone else. I know, I know...it's bad to hate others, but I really don't care. I hated Holly and nothing could change that. I hadn't always hated her, though. Growing up we were the best of friends, that is until we reached high school. Everything changed after she got her first boyfriend, though that wasn't why I hated her. I still didn't hate her even when she completely stopped talking to me and would glare at me in the hallway with all her new friends. No, I started hating her at the beginning of our second year of high school. That was the year I'd met Christopher. Christopher was in my math class and I absolutely adored him. Long story short, Holly eventually got to him and the two became an item even though Holly didn't like him. I knew all this because Penelope had told me just to spite me. Ever since Holly realized how easily she could take things from me it was as if we were both in some sort of competition against each other. A competition I wanted no part in. Although, I constantly told myself that I didn't really care, deep down it hurt seeing what our friendship had turned into.

"Well, well, well...what do we have here?" Holly said as I walked in. She was leaning against one of the sinks with Penelope at her side. I rolled my eyes as I grabbed a paper towel and ran it under warm water.

"Don't you have a new face to be applying?" I asked, motioning to all the makeup lined up on the edge of the sink.

Holly scoffed, "No, I have a face to be perfecting," she said while applying an ugly red shade of lipstick onto her lips.

"Well, that will surely take a while," I muttered while rubbing the stain on my shirt with the paper towel. No luck. The bloody stain just wouldn't come out. Oh, well. It was just a stain, I'd survive.

"Bye,sis! See ya tonight for dinner," Penelope said sarcastically as I walked towards the door. I ignored her and made my way towards my first period class, English. I liked English, but ever since Ms. Rodney decided that we were incapable of sitting wherever we wanted to and created a seating chart the class was less than enjoyable. I had to sit next to John Lennon. In other words, I was being forced to sit next to an overly-cocky bastard who thinks everyone wants him. Except, he was actually right about the last part. Why everyone was so obsessed with him I'll never really know.

"Damn, you're here," I said coldly as I walked into the classroom and found John sitting in the desk next to mine. Today was really not starting off well.

"Great, isn't it?" John said as I sat down in my desk and pulled out my homework.

"Not at all," I said as the bell rang, signaling the start of class. Great, six more hours of this hell called school until I was finally free. Except I'm not sure I'd really be "free" after school, considering the fact that I'd have to endure dinner with _them_.

"Dad, I'm home!" I yelled as I walked into the house after school. School was...well, school. I hated pretty much hated every minute of it.

"I'm over here!" My dad called from somewhere in the kitchen.

"Woah...you're cooking," I said as I walked into the kitchen and saw pots and pans scattered all over the place. I was honestly shocked. Normally, I was the one who did all the cooking otherwise we'd starve. My dad was a horrible cook.

"Yeah, I figured I'd give it a try," he admitted sheepishly as he dropped some pasta into a pot of boiling water. "How does spaghetti sound?"

"Great. Well, I'm going to start on me homework." I said, making my way towards the stairs.

"Dinner will be ready in a few hours!"

"I'll try to forget," I muttered to myself and walked up into my room, dumping my books onto my cluttered desk. Homework...lovely. Absolutely lovely.

"JULES. DINNER IS READY AND THE DONOVANS' ARE HERE!" Dad called. Great. I was seriously in no mood to have dinner with Penelope and her mom. I threw my pencil down and smoothed down my shirt before going downstairs. Sure enough, they were all there seated around the table when I came in.

"I already served you, Jules." My dad said as he patted the chair next to him.

"Thanks, dad. Hello, Francine and Penelope," I said as politely as I could. This was killing me. I hated being nice to people like them.

"Please, call me Ms. Donovan," Francine, I mean _Ms. Donovan _corrected me.

"Yes. Well, hello, anyway," I said taking my seat.

"So, how was school today, Penelope?" My dad asked as if he were really interested in what she had to say. For all I knew, he probably was.

"Oh, it was great. Thanks for asking, Mr. Hartley," Penelope responded, sounding as innocent as possible.

"How was school for you, Juliette?" Francine asked in a I-really-don't-care-but-I-didn't-want-to-seem-rude-by-not-asking kind of way.

"Horrible." I said while taking a bite of garlic bread.

"Oh, why's that?" She asked, sounding a bit surprised at my answer.

"I hate everyone." I could feel my dad's glare burning into the side of my head. He always complained about how I needed to watch what I said in front of other people. But to be frank, I really didn't care what they thought of me. What I thought of them was probably worse, anyway.

"Oh...that's interesting," Francine said slowly, sharing a look with my dad.

"Mummy, Paul smiled at me today!" Penelope said, changing the subject, in her overly peppy voice.

"McCartney?" I suddenly interrupted . He was in my art class, he was a couple years younger than me, but he was really nice and might I add, very attractive for a lad his age.

"Yes, you know him?" Penelope asked, sounding genuinely interested for once.

"Sure, he's in my art class."

"He's so dreamy! Plus, he's best friends with John Lennon and Holly's got her eyes on him." She said almost to herself. This was a bit of a shock. Holly fancied John? I never would have guessed, he didn't really seem like her type.

"Oh, that's great, sweetheart." Francine beamed at her daughter as if she'd just said something incredibly intelligent.

The rest of dinner went by relatively smoothly and not to mention, a whole lot faster than I'd expected. I was thrilled when Francine and Penelope finally left. My mind was suddenly overflowing with ideas.

"Dad, I'm really tired. I'm going to sleep. Goodnight." I said before running up the stairs while he stayed back and cleared the table

I was tired, but I most certainly was not going to sleep anytime soon. Since Holly was so into John...what if I managed to get him before she did? Finally, she'd feel the same way I'd felt. I knew this whole idea was crazy, but I couldn't stop thinking about. I had to do it. I had to set this plan into action.

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**Okay, so there it is. I'll make this short...REVIEW. Thanks. :)**


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